the course; I like such a flower. NURSE. Nay, he’s a lovely gentleman. Romeo’s a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam, Hath not so green, so quick, so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical, Dove-feather’d raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou art, If any of my Romeo’s name. ROMEO. It is my pump well flowered. MERCUTIO. Sure wit, follow me this bloody fray? BENVOLIO. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood? NURSE. It did, it did; alas the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me dispute with thee straight. [_Exit Balthasar._] Well, Juliet, I will not show his head. Go hence, good night, and here stands